


Focus

by accol



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blood Drinking, Demonic Possession, First Time, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 13:53:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/662745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accol/pseuds/accol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Dean’s fingers drew over his tattoo, feeling the sting of the cut that bisected it. Sam watched him rub finger against thumb, spreading the blood between them and registering the wetness. The protection was broken and he was face-to-smoke with a demon who would just as soon wear him like a hat.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Focus

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Porn Battle XIV (Fiery Fourteen)](http://oxoniensis.dreamwidth.org/57050.html?thread=8539354#cmt8539354) for the prompts _protection_ and _save_.

Dean dove, trying to slip under the path of the knife, thrown hard and with inhuman accuracy. It clattered to the blacktop, Sam saw the burn of its path across Dean’s chest reflected on his face. His t-shirt hung open, sagging where the blade had slipped through it like it was no more than smoke. Blood ran in neat rivulets across his tattoo.  
  
“That’s it. _Yes_ ,” the black eyed woman purred, lips pulling back across her teeth in a feral smirk. “Finally so _open_.”  
  
Smoke poured from her mouth, the discarded body collapsing to the parking lot tarmac.  
  
Realization slunk down Sam’s back in a cold sweat. “Run!” he bellowed. “It’s broken! Dean!”  
  
Dean’s fingers drew over his tattoo, feeling the sting of the cut that bisected it. Sam watched him rub finger against thumb, spreading the blood between them and registering the wetness. Frustration welled from Sam’s gut. Why wasn’t Dean moving yet? The protection was broken and he was face-to-smoke with a demon who would just as soon wear him like a hat.  
  
Time slowed to a crawl. Sam spun in the doorway to their motel room, looking back across the parking lot to where Dean stood. He was lit up by the bright light that spilled out from their room. His eyes shone strangely white. His lips had fallen open, and Sam thought for a quiet, weird flicker of time that Dean had a nice mouth. Sam had the briefest moment to have the horrible thought that it was Dean that was supposed to be Lucifer’s vessel.  
  
Sam reached out a hand for Dean, urging him to run. _Don’t let it take you, Dean._ Then the black fingers of demon filth were running up his legs, twining around his fingers, forcing their way into his body through his broken skin, down his throat. He yelled, forcing outward with every ounce of himself until his vocal cords rasped with the exertion. But the demon took him.  
  
“Oh, Sammy,” the demon said in Dean’s voice, teasing and sing-song as he closed the distance between them.  
  
Sam felt like a deer in the headlights, in utter disbelief at Dean’s black eyes, that his big brother had finally been taken by something with real power.  
  
“You’re so pretty, Sam. I just have to have you too.” Dean’s finger stroked along Sam’s lower lip. The demon bit his own lip, wetting it as it slipped loose from beneath his teeth.  
  
Dean fought to the surface long enough to drag his fingers away from Sam, fisting his hand and punching against the doorframe as if the pain would keep him in the moment.  
  
“Get out of here, Sammy. Take the car--”  
  
The demon roared back with a furious growl. “No, you don’t, Dean. Your body is mine until I’m done with it!” He looked at Sam through his lashes. “And I’m about to make your brother mine too. I think I’ll ride you both a little hard before the night is through.”  
  
Something close to agony rose in Sam in the moment before he swung. His huge fist closed in on the demon’s face -- on Dean’s face -- but the demon’s hand caught it before he landed the punch. The jarring recoil sent Sam reeling backward into the motel room.  
  
Dean’s body was over the threshold in a blink. With a wave of his hand, the door slammed. With a push of his palm, Sam was pinned against the wall.  
  
“No need to squirm, little brother. I’ll treat you so nice. Fuck some of that innocence out of you and leave you a quivering heap. I know you want it, Sammy. I know you want _this_.” The demon took a handful of Dean’s crotch and squeezed. “You want this stretching you wide open until you’re begging for it to make you come. So, does it really matter who’s behind the wheel for the ride?”  
  
Horror skittered across Sam’s features. “Fuck you.”  
  
A smile. “Lovely choice of words, Sammy. I think I will, since you asked so nicely.”  
  
“Fuck you,” Sam said again. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus--”  
  
Sam’s voice evaporated with a slicing motion of the demon’s finger. The demon threw him to the bed, pinning him there under that invisible hand of evil power that squeezed at his wrists and throat.  
  
 _The knife was in the car... what else could he use? Anything. Salt. A hex bag. No, that wouldn’t do any good. There was a rosary in his coat._ His fingers scratched at the bed as he tried to focus, tried to brainstorm.  
  
A button popped open on his shirt, and another. Sam sucked in a quick breath. Dean’s face wore a hungry grin that was half him, half something so wrong. Invisible fingertips of power stroked across his chest as the demon stripped away Sam’s clothes. The feeling of Dean’s eyes running over him was confusingly complex. Rage and embarrassment, comfort and the tickle of something he couldn’t think about. He struggled against the magic, nostrils flaring with each rapid breath of anger and frustration.  
  
The demon pulled open Dean’s belt.  
  
Sam couldn’t tear his eyes away. The blood drying on Dean’s chest, his muscled arms and abs, the hair that trailed below his jeans toward the bulge there. The demon flicked open the button.  
  
“That’s right,” Dean’s voice taunted. “You want him. No hiding your true feelings, _Sammy_.”  
  
The demon convulsed. “Don’t you fucking call him that,” Dean shouted. His eyes cleared, meeting Sam’s and trying to tell him everything in the space of a second. He stumbled, planting his palm on the bed next to Sam’s bare thigh.  
  
“Dean! You have to fight your way out of there.” Sam sat up, starting for his bag. If he could fill the bathtub and get the rosary--  
  
Dean yelled in agony. The strangling hold of the demon’s invisible touch forced Sam back to the bed.  
  
“I’m going to enjoy this,” he rasped.  
  
Sam’s knees went wide, muscles trembling to resist the invisible push. Dean’s body slotted between them, pulling at his cock and eyeing Sam’s groin.  
  
“I’m going to enjoy fucking you with your brother’s body. I’m going to enjoy watching you give in to it, give in to your lust as I fuck you full of Dean’s come. And afterward I’m going to enjoy watching the two of you torn apart with disgust for each other.”  
  
The demon’s hand closed around Sam’s cock. He jerked, trying to pull away. This was so wrong. He couldn’t... He didn’t want it this way.  
  
 _Focus._ The warmth of Dean’s hand was still there. That was still Dean. The demon hadn’t taken that away. This was Dean... Sam could believe this was Dean and just get through it. They’d deal with it after. They could be strong enough.  
  
Sam’s cock was hardening with every stroke of Dean’s calloused palm. It was just a biological response. That’s how men are built. _Focus._ Sam focused on Dean’s mouth, his full lower lip. He searched Dean’s eyes for any recognition... maybe a flicker of something that said Dean was fighting under there.  
  
“Play along, Sammy,” Dean said... it was Dean this time, Sam was sure of it. He could see him there, the way his eyes softened and challenged him at the same time. “Just... play--”  
  
Dean’s hand stuttered across the crown of Sam’s dick as the demon took control again. Sam gasped at the unexpected pleasure of it.  
  
“Quite the nice cock you’ve got, little brother,” the demon said, sliding Dean’s length along his with a slow thrust. Sam’s groan betrayed him. “I bet your hole is even nicer.”  
  
Sam gritted his teeth as the demon pressed a dry fingertip to his ass. _Play along, Sammy_ , echoed through his mind as the finger gently circled his entrance. _Play along._ Sam’s blood ran hot with embarrassed jolts of pleasure. This was a demon. This was Dean. Either way, this was...  
  
Cool lube drizzled over his dick. A slick fingertip pressed inside him as the demon’s fist pumped along his hard cock.  
  
“I’m gonna fuck you until you come,” the demon mumbled, obviously focused now on it’s goal. Sam turned his head away and closed his eyes. Picturing this as his brother made it easier, made it good even though it shouldn’t have. “Gonna open up that ass wide until you’re begging for me to let you come.” He slipped another of Dean’s fingers inside, and Sam forced himself to follow Dean’s order. _Focus._ He let those fingers push into him. He let that fist make him feel good. He made peace with the idea that he was about to get fucked by a man that was both a demon and his brother... and a man.  
  
“Sammy,” Dean whispered. “Bite me.”  
  
Sam opened his eyes but the demon was already back in control of Dean’s body, pushing the head of his cock against Sam’s hole. He clenched. _Play along. Bite me._  
  
Sam’s eyes lit on the red streak across Dean’s chest just as Dean’s cock pushed inside. Pain and pleasure sent a silent yell out of him.  
  
Remorse flickered across Dean’s face. Then the first stroke came, out and then in again. The demon was dragging this out, testing Sam to see if he’d fall into agony or ecstasy. Dean’s thumb stroked across the slit of his cock. The room was filled with the resounding slap of skin against skin.  
  
Warmth pooled in Sam’s groin. Great shocks of tense pleasure shot through him with every thrust. _Focus. Bite me._ Sam hated that this felt as good as it did. He hated that this was the way that this was going down, that this was the way their first time had to be.  
  
No. He knew what he had to do. Dean had asked him to do it.  
  
Sam craned upward, still held by the demon’s magic at the wrists. He licked at Dean’s chest and flexed his hips, covering his motives with enthusiasm for taking Dean’s cock deeper, by rocking into each thrust.  
  
The metallic taste filled Sam’s mouth as Dean’s wound reopened. Evil mixed with something more, something familiar and insistent egged him on. He lapped it up as it flowed thick and powerful across his tongue. The demon threw its head back in ecstasy as Sam fed.  
  
Dean’s hips snapped forward, drilling deep into him. His mouth bumped away and then back again, smearing the redness across Dean’s pec. The power and the lust needled its way through Sam, the demon blood mixing with Sam’s... mixing with Dean’s as they fucked. His cock rubbed between their stomachs, every thrust taking him closer to the edge of coming. He licked Dean’s nipple, almost forgetting who was inside him. He leaned up to press his mouth to Dean’s.  
  
“Now. Sammy, now,” Dean breathed against Sam’s lips. _Focus._  
  
His ass was on fire with their fucking, but he pulled himself together. Dragging himself away from that ragged edge and throwing himself off another that was equally as treacherous. Sam poured everything he had, every bit of force he could summon, every ounce of focus into ganking the demon out of Dean’s body. His pupils constricted to pinpoints even as the demon fucked deeper into him with Dean’s cock.  
  
“No!” the demon croaked as Sam’s power took hold of it. “It’s not possible!”  
  
Black smoke belched from Dean’s mouth, spilling over Sam’s body as it burned its way downward into the Pit. Dean’s back arched and his cock slipped free of Sam’s hole leaving him empty and unsatisfied. His ass and dick throbbed, confused about right and wrong.  
Dean’s body was heavy as he collapsed across Sam with a shudder.  
  
“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean said, burying his face against Sam’s tattoo. His arms wrapped beneath Sam’s back, squeezing him hard enough that it hurt to breathe. All Sam could think about was the feeling of Dean inside him, and how empty he’d feel if Dean said he was sorry for any of this.


End file.
